<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Forget-Me-Not by coming_up_roses</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214505">Forget-Me-Not</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coming_up_roses/pseuds/coming_up_roses'>coming_up_roses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asian-American Character, China, Chinese Character, Chinese Mythology &amp; Folklore, F/M, Folklore, Gen, Gods, Mythology - Freeform, Reincarnation, Sichuan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:15:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coming_up_roses/pseuds/coming_up_roses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenny Wang works at an unfulfilling data-analyst position in a small Silicon Valley start up. Her co-workers can't seem take a no for a no. Her parents would rather she be shacked up with five babies ASAP. And her on-off boyfriend Darrius seemingly vanishes off the face of the earth entirely. Done with it all, Jenny decides to take a one-month exodus to her mother's small, remote hometown in rural Sichuan.</p>
<p>And everything changes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Au Revere, Man Jose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"And he <em>laughed</em> at me! <em>Laughed</em>! Told me to stop playing hard to get!"</p><p>"Let's drink to that," Amy groaned. She lifted her glass into the air. "To stupid co-workers who can't seem to understand the meaning of workplace harassment."</p><p>"To a fucking useless HR team," Jenny said, clinking her glass against Amy's. "And to a permanently single future for this both of us."</p><p>Amy laughed. She was completely wasted now, her entire face a blotchy red, and the glass tilted at a dangerous angle as she flailed her arms in the air before bringing it to her mouth. "That's two douches out of the way, fifty million left to go."</p><p>They were sprawled on the pool deck of Amy's apartment complex, dressed in the kind of family-friendly bikinis that <em>didn't</em> result in apartment security called on them. Despite it being a toasty seventy-five degree afternoon, the pool was completely empty save for the two of them, which was what Jenny liked about the bedroom community vibe of the Bay; everyone else was usually out doing respectable jobs at this time of day. Not like the two of them, already five years out of college and yet to be anything other than family failures.</p><p>Well, that description fell mostly on Jenny. Amy had gotten a degree from RISD in graphic design and spent her days either drunk or making posters for community events, but had parents who had made major bank with Amazon stock back in the day and were therefore loaded for life and the next ten generations. Not like Jenny, who had graduated from college with nothing to show for it but the ability to stay awake for over 24 hours powered by nothing but sheer numbness, and parents who were comfortably upper middle-class but not "permanently-support-dumb-daughter" rich.</p><p>"<em>A</em>-men."</p><p>"<em>Soooo</em>, what kind of hunks do you think you'll meet in Sichuan?"</p><p>Jenny turned her head to make sure Amy could fully appreciate the strength of her eye-roll. "It's a rural village in the middle of nowhere," she said. "I'll be lucky to see a guy with all his teeth, probably."</p><p>"Still better than Darrius though, am I right?"</p><p>"Shut the fuck up."</p><p>"He wasn't even that cute," Amy said flippantly. "You could do <em>so</em> much better. But not like, workplace creep better. You get what I'm saying?"</p><p>"You are <em>so</em> drunk," Jenny laughed. "And okay, I was looking at him with Wellesley goggles when I first met him. You know, hadn't seen a guy in four years and all?"</p><p>"You better put on those goggles in Sichuan then."</p><p>Another eyeroll.</p><p>Darrius <em>hadn't</em> been a supermodel, she'd admit, but he was decently cute and funny. And witty. And knew how to make her melt with just a kiss or a stray touch here or there. He had been the first serious boyfriend she'd ever had, and so even when all the red flags started piling up — the lies, the random disappearances, the second phone she'd never known he had — she'd still taken him back after the first break-up. That pattern followed for the second time, and then the third and fourth; just the sight of him on her doorstep with flowers was enough for that weak, sentimental part of her to cave.</p><p>But now, after two months with no contact at all, their break was looking a lot more final.</p><p>"If I meet a guy with more than five teeth, I'll be sure to contact you," Jenny said, then downed another gulp of the rosé. "Though that's obviously way out of your league."</p><p>"Hey, fuck <em>you</em>."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After their dip by the pool, they were both ravenous. Amy ordered takeout from T4 and a small Taiwanese karaoke place that did Tuesday dinner specials <em>(—"don't worry, food's all on me today,</em> <em>babe</em>—"), and they passed the time waiting for it to arrive by rewatching clips from Crazy Rich Asians on Youtube and laughing at the sheer ridiculous of it all.</p><p>"That is so unrealistic," Amy groaned, as Henry Golding smiled blindingly at the camera. "Also, he's not even full Asian. He's like half white."</p><p>"Does it matter?"</p><p>"<em>Yeah</em>, like what, they couldn't find a hot Asian dude to play Nick so they had to find a mixed guy instead?"</p><p>"I wouldn't mind it if Henry Golding swept me off my feet," Jenny said. "And where are they supposed to find some hot Asian dude — cast Nigahiga?"</p><p>"Is that the <em>only</em> Asian dude you know?" Amy said. She leaned on Jenny's shoulder, holding her phone higher to accommodate her new angle. "Bruh, remember when you had a crush on him in sixth grade?" Her voice went up by a pitch. "<em>Oh Ryan, he's so cute, he's cuter than all of One Direction combined.</em>"</p><p>"Shut up, don't pretend you didn't think he hot."</p><p>"He <em>is</em> hot. I just have dignity."</p><p>"Why you—"</p><p>Jenny launched a throw cushion on Amy's head, who retaliated in a rather dignified manner by throwing herself onto Jenny, which caused both of them to roll off the couch and onto the carpet below. Jenny tickled Amy's waist, which caused her to dissolve into hysterical giggles and take aim at Jenny's underarms, and it was halfway through this demonstration of very mature behavior from the two of them that the doorbell rang.</p><p>"Shit!" Amy pulled herself away, pressing down her hair so that it looked somewhat presentable. "Coming!"</p><p>Jenny clambered back onto the couch just as Amy returned with two plastic bags. The larger of the two was the Taiwanese snacks, which included an assortment of pig's blood cakes, squid balls, takoyaki, stinky tofu, beef tripe, and basil popcorn chicken. The other one was their T4 order, which contained a passion fruit royal green tea and a red bean milk tea.</p><p>"Will you just choose an order and stick with it already?" Jenny said, eyeing Amy's red bean milk tea with some doubt. As far as she knew, Amy didn't even like red beans and would likely throw it out within a few sips or so. "I swear I've never seen you order the same thing twice."</p><p>Amy shrugged. "Variety is the spice of life."</p><p>"Is that how you choose your boyfriends?"</p><p>"Let's see..." Amy said, biting into a squid ball. "I've dated a FOB, art school fuccboi, nerdy Brown Compsci student, Americanized-FOB, fobby ABC, Silicon Valley bro, Kevin Nguyen... Yeah, that sounds pretty diverse to me."</p><p>Jenny grabbed herself a pig's blood cake. It was still warm and tasted vaguely of onion powder. "All I'm hearing is douche, bigger douche, douche, douche, douche, douche, and, you guessed it, douche."</p><p>"You're not wrong," Amy said. She tried a little of the milk tea and grimaced. "Ugh, that's disgusting."</p><p>"Trade?" Jenny offered.</p><p>Amy gratefully took the passion fruit boba and flopped onto the couch. "I don't even know what I'd do without you, babe," she said, and Jenny rolled her eyes, knowing that she wouldn't learn her lesson the next time. "How am I going to survive a whole month without you?"</p><p>"It's called Wechat."</p><p>"It's called Xi-dada's going to spy on you."</p><p>"Oh please, your data isn't sexy enough for Xi-dada to spy on you."</p><p>"Eww," Amy said, uncrossing her legs so that she could pile them onto Jenny's. "And of course you would know that, Ms. I-spy-on-your-data-for-fun."</p><p>Jenny wasn't explicitly the one who actually spied on the customer data — that was far more advanced stuff, the kind that required knowledge of five different languages and a fundamental lacking of ethics. She worked back-end in the startup and mostly cleaned up and organized the data so that the Jeff, the CTO, could process it and then sell it off to LiveRamp.</p><p>She tried to explain this concept to Amy, who gave her a supercilious look. "Tomato, to-<em>mah</em>-to."</p><p>"I get paid like five times less than Jeff," Jenny said. Not that she minded. It was Nathan, who worked under Jeff, that was a touchy creep with no boundaries and still earned more in a year than she would in half a decade. HR in a small startup was a joke; she was the expendable one, not Nathan, who, though wasn't ugly or had terrible hygiene or anything, had a sleazy quality to him that made every inch of self-preservation within her scream no thanks.</p><p>"Just marry him already. And then divorce him and steal half his assets. Or kill him. Whatever's faster."</p><p>"He's like fifty and already has a wife and kids."</p><p>"So?"</p><p>"What the fuck, Amy," Jenny said. "First of all, I've met his wife and she's a lovely woman, and second of all he's bald and looks like a black Danny Devito. "</p><p>That wasn't the kindest thing to say about Jeff, who was nice enough (despite his moral failings) and was certainly taller than Danny Devito. But she'd also been passed over for a bonus for the second year in a row and was feeling rather vindictive about the whole thing.</p><p>Amy finished off the last of the popcorn chicken and looked unimpressed. "What about an affair? You'd get a promotion at the very least."</p><p>"You trashy hoe."</p><p>"Shut the fuck up."</p><p>"No, you shut the fuck up."</p><p>"Ugh," Amy said, rubbing off the grease on her hands with a napkin. She reached over and hugged Jenny around the waist. "I'm going to miss you lots."</p><p>"It's only a month," Jenny said, grumbling, but it was true that an Amy-shaped gap had already started building up inside of her chest. She was starting to regret the decision already — why the hell was she even going to Sichuan? She didn't know anyone back in China save for a few cousins she had last seen over a decade ago back in high school. There would be no Wifi, no people her age, and no common language.</p><p>"It's going to feel like forever," Amy said, pressing her head against the side of Jenny's chest. "You better bring me back some of those rose cakes from last time, at the very least, okay?"</p><p>"Those were from Yunnan," Jenny laughed. "It's like three Taiwans away."</p><p>"I was never good at geography," Amy admitted. "Nearly flunked the class back in my freshman year."</p><p>"I'm not surprised," Jenny said, and ducked out of the way as Amy slammed a pillow towards her face.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>And then there was housekeeping.</p><p>"Yes, I know," Jenny said, crouched over a half-full suitcase, bottles of travel sized toiletries around her. She'd packed her undergarments and a few days worth of outerwear, but had planned to buy most of her clothing at in a mall by the airport to keep her luggage weight down. <em>"Baba,</em> it's fine. I'll be fine."</p><p>"<em>I'm worried about you,</em>" her father said. "<em>They'll eat you alive. They look at you and think you're a fat, juicy pig ready for the slaughter.</em>"</p><p>"I grew up there," she said defensively, folding up a pair of socks. "Besides, <em>Laolao </em>will be with me the whole time."</p><p>"<em>You haven't been back since you were six. And you can't trust Laolao's family — you know what sort they are.</em>"</p><p>Jenny frowned. She knew that her father didn't like her grandaunt-in-law, who had tried demanding for compensation for raising Jenny in a bid to profit off her husband's wealthier family from America. The claim had been laughed off at the time, but her father had never truly forgotten or forgiven.</p><p>"I won't talk to them," Jenny said. "I'll be careful. <em>Laolao</em> won't let anything happen to me."</p><p>"<em>Your Laolao is another matter altogether</em>," said her father. "<em>Look, Jini. I don't like you going there all by yourself. It's too isolated. What if something happens and you — you get kidnapped? The men in rural China, you can't trust them. They'll see you as meat</em>."</p><p>"You sound like Mom," she grumbled. "I just... just need to get out of here. It's driving me crazy."</p><p>"<em>Maybe it'd be better if you found a,"</em> her father began. Jenny rolled her eyes and mouthed along as he continued, "<em>boyfriend</em>. <em>What happened to that Darrius boy? I quite liked him."</em></p><p>"<em>Baba</em>, we broke up months ago."</p><p>"<em>I knew we shouldn't have let you go to that all-girls college. Look at you now, twenty-seven and single. When I was your age, your brother was already three years old.</em>"</p><p>"And yet I don't see you pressuring Jackson to get married."</p><p>"<em>That's different.</em>"</p><p>"You just don't want him to get married with Sanjana because she's Indian," Jenny said, rolling together another pair. "Don't pretend it's not racism. It's so obvious."</p><p><em>"We aren't talking about your brother,</em>" her father said, transparently changing the subject. <em>"We're talking about you. Why can't you just settle down here and look for another boyfriend? Instead of this ridiculous idea you have to forget all of your real life problems by tramping around with a bunch of peasant farmers—</em>"</p><p>The phone beeped as Jenny hung up the call. She pressed the power off button until the screen turned black, and spent the rest of her packing in blissful silence.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong><em>Nathan (work): </em></strong>When do you get back from China?</p><p><strong><em>Nathan (work):</em></strong> What do you think of getting a coffee afterwards</p><p><strong><em>Nathan (work)</em></strong>: My treat, what'd yay hunks</p><p><strong><em>Nathan</em> <em>(work)</em></strong><em>: </em>Sorry autocorrect</p><p><strong><em>Nathan</em> <em>(work)</em></strong><em>: </em>I meant whaddyathink</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em><strong>Jeff (work)</strong></em>: Enjoy your break!</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong><em>Unknown Number:</em></strong> 27.697_103.249</p><p><strong><em>Unknown Number: </em></strong>等着妳。</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Welcome to Hongfeng</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em><strong>Me</strong></em>: What does 妳 mean?</p><p><em><strong>Mom:</strong></em> It's an archaic way of writing 你. Why?</p><p><em><strong>Me:</strong></em> Someone sent me a weird text.</p><p><em><strong>Me:</strong></em> Screen Shot 2018-06-05 at 7.33.40 PM</p><p><em><strong>Mom:</strong></em> Looks like spam. Ignore it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strong>—Replying to Jeff (work) </strong> </em>
</p><p><em><strong>Me:</strong></em> Thank you!</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The air in Chengdu was muggy and hot when Jenny stepped off the plane. She had wore a jacket for the duration of the rather chilly fifteen hour flight, but now, even in the air-conditioned airport she could feel nothing but the stifling, overbearing heat.</p><p>She slipped off the jacket and stuffed it in her knapsack, before looking around for the terminal she would need to change flights to Xichang. Fortunately, Chengdu was an international airport, and with all the signs accompanied by English translations navigation was far easier than she had anticipated.</p><p>There was a two-and-a-half hour layover in between the flights. In the meantime, Jenny took initiative to exchange her currency into renmibi. <em>Laolao</em> had said that she would give Jenny access to a Wechat pay account when they met in Hongfeng, but that was still five hours away and she was already too hungry to think straight. All around the terminals were restaurants and food booths with glowing, colorful signs, and it was all she could do to try and quell the grumbling in her stomach.</p><p>The airport kiosk (marked by a large <strong>EXCHANGE</strong> sign on top) had a long line stretching across a wall and around a corner. By the time she reached the clerk she was too exhausted to bemoan the high exchange rates — besides, she was only exchanging $50 USD, which was pocket change in the Bay, and the cost of goods in China was cheaper. It wasn't like she'd be losing out on that much. Or so she told herself.</p><p>And so, armed with gleaming red Mao Zedongs and an empty stomach, she found the nearest stall in the airport and deposited herself at a table.</p><p>"<em>Mei nü, let me give nin</em><em> a cai dan."</em></p><p>Jenny looked up and gratefully accepted the menu offered to her by the waitress, a young, twenty-something girl.</p><p><em>"Thank you." </em>That, at least, was a phrase she knew how to say.</p><p>She glanced back down and found, much to her chagrin, that there were no photos and the provided English was quite dubiously auto-translated. In the end, she settled with the most innocuous descriptions: 'Chili in dumpling bowl', 'Mocha tea'.</p><p>The waitress had realized at this point that she was a foreigner, and nodded before taking back the menu. A moment later, she disappeared into the back of the stall, only to reappear seconds afterwards with a teapot and teacup set that was gracefully set in the middle of the table.</p><p>"You are Korea? Vietnam?"</p><p>It took a moment to process those words. Jenny shook her head hurriedly. "<em>America</em>," she said, the words rolling thick and awkwardly off her tongue. "<em>But my Mama and Baba are Chinese</em>."</p><p>"<em>Ah, I understand</em>," said the waitress. "<em>America. You are very fu, do you know?</em>"</p><p>Jenny did not know what <em>fu</em> meant, and tried to convey that with a blank look.</p><p>"Luck," said the waitress. "Look at me. I always here. Can not leave."</p><p>She was smiling, but all Jenny could feel suddenly was a deep discomfort — the knowledge that she was being envied, that the invisible gap between them was insurmountable, the distance between oceans and cultures and so much more that she did not know.</p><p>"Oh," she said. "<em>I see.</em>"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jenny did not stay long at the stall. She had a flight to catch, and truthfully after the rather stilted small talk she was feeling rather unsettled. The dumplings in chili oil would have tasted good on any other day, but today she only ate quickly and left behind an extra Mao Zedong — not that it mattered — when she went to pay the bill.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The airport in Xichang was much smaller than the one in Chengdu. The heat had not changed; if anything, it had intensified into a sticky, warm sensation that wet the back of her shirt and her underarms.</p><p>A man with glasses and a fitted blazer was waiting for her at the entrance near baggage claim. He was holding a sign that read '王济妮' scrawled out in large, childish handwriting, and it seemed rather out of place compared to the more upright feeling he gave off.</p><p>"<em>Hallo, hallo</em>," Jenny said, waving to him. <em>Laolao</em> had given her the Wechat contact ID of the cousin who was supposed to be picking her up, but she didn't have any data outside of the US and the Wifi in a small airport like this was all but moot. "<em>I'm Wang Jini</em>."</p><p>"<em>Shu Le'ai</em>," said the man, extending an arm to take her larger suitcase. He had a thick accent that was different from the Chinese of the mainland FOBs she had encountered before or that of both her parents, but it wasn't like she would have been able to understand most of what he was saying regardless. "<em>I'm your biao ge.</em>"</p><p>"<em>En, I know</em>," she said. "<em>Thank you for... </em>um, well, helping pick me—<em>help me</em>."</p><p>Shu Le'ai nodded in a way that told Jenny he hadn't understood most of what she'd said at all, but that was fine. She had heard from <em>laolao</em> that his older brother was fluent in English and had higher hopes of more direct communication through that channel. Else, she'd downloaded a Chinese-English translation app on her phone, but for now she didn't see need for it yet.</p><p>"<em>Do you want to first go to guang chang?</em>"</p><p>"<em>E</em><em>h?</em>"</p><p>"Buy," Shu Le'ai said, leading her out of the airport and into the sweltering heat outside. "<em>Yi-laolao said you wanted to go</em>."</p><p>It took a moment before she finally processed that he meant mall. "Oh yeah," she said, before realizing that she had replied in English. "Um, <em>correct. I want to go</em>."</p><p>They walked until they arrived at a black minivan of a brand that she did not recognize. Shu Le'ai lifted her bags into the trunk with a remarkable ease, something rather surprising given how lean and lanky he looked.</p><p>The mall was only a few minutes away from the airport. Jenny had planned on making this a short trip — given the weather, it made more sense to buy a few cheap dresses that she could wash periodically than bulkier shirts and pants. Luckily, it was summer and most of the clothes displayed in the windowsill were the kind of cute, generic summer dresses that she liked. She pointed out a few of the styles she liked to the shop assistant and Shu Le'ai paid for all of them with a scan of his phone.</p><p>"<em>How much?</em>" she asked as they walked out of the store, bags in hand. She'd bought six dresses, but hadn't exactly paid attention to the price, though she intended to pay it all back in full.</p><p>"<em>Don't worry,</em>" Shu Le'ai said, waving his hand. "<em>We are family</em>."</p><p>That didn't seem to make any sense to her, but her cousin brokered no opposition. In the end, they stopped by a boba chain near the entrance of the mall called Coco for some drinks, before returning to the car.</p><p>The mango green tea was sweet. Jenny finished most of it, but the drowsiness was quickly taking over, and sometime before she knew it she was already fast asleep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She missed most of the drive from Xichang to Hongfeng. Sometime in between, the scenery had changed from industrial high-rises to rural hilltops and farmland. It was evening now, and the glow of the lights on the car dashboard reflected eerily on Shu Le'ai's face. Chinese folk music played from the speakers.</p><p>"<em>What time is it?</em>"</p><p><em>"Eight,"</em> Shu Le'ai said. He glanced over at her. "<em>We're almost there</em>. <em>Maybe another twenty minutes.</em>"</p><p>They had left the airport at half past four. Jenny stretched her arms and yawned, feeling her limbs ache with exhaustion as she did. </p><p>They made some small talk about the flight. There had been a baby in the front that had incessantly cried for hours on end, and she had hardly slept as a result, though on the bright side it seemed to have made the time difference jetlag a little more bearable.</p><p>"<em>Do you remember me?</em>"</p><p>The question seemed to have come out of nowhere. She started. "<em>Ah?</em>"</p><p>"<em>When you were little, we played together.</em>"</p><p>Jenny tried to remember, but her memories of growing up in China were a blur. She vaguely remembered the children of her aunt, but they had visited her before in America and so the memories were a little fresher. </p><p>"<em>Sorry</em>." She shook her head.</p><p>"<em>Oh</em>." If he was disappointed, it didn't show on his face.</p><p>"<em>How old are you</em>?"</p><p>"<em>Thirty.</em>"</p><p>"<em>Oh, then you're three years older than me</em>."</p><p>"<em>Mmm</em>," he said. Then, turning the car around a rather narrow path across the side of the mountain, he added, "<em>Your Chinese is a lot more cha compared to before.</em>"</p><p>"<em>Cha</em>?"</p><p><em>"Not as good as before</em>," he said. "<em>Can you still recite any Tang poems</em>?"</p><p>The words came to her as easily. "<em>Chuang qian ming yue guang, di shang yi shi shuang, ju tou wang ming yue, di tou si gu xiang</em>."</p><p>"<em>Yi shi di shang shuang</em>," Shu Le'ai corrected. "<em>You don't use Chinese often, it's very ming xian. Well, it's good that you're here. You can learn some more.</em>"</p><p>"<em>Guess so</em>," Jenny said. She glanced out the window and stared at what she could make out of the green foliage surrounding her. It looked a little bit like the road leading up to Castle Rock back home, except here the road was made of dirt and occasionally she'd get a mini heart-attack from how high up they were and the overall lack of barriers.</p><p>They reached the top of the hill and turned into a small dirt path that snaked into the woods. It was a little astonishing at how isolated they were; in the fifteen minutes or so she had been awake, they had encountered no other cars of people. </p><p>"<em>Over there,</em>" Shu Le'ai said, gesturing his chin towards a series of old-looking shacks seemingly having popped up from the middle of nowhere. He pointed to the one second from their right. "<em>That's your old home.</em>"</p><p>Jenny had a faint recollection of living here. Little had changed, it seemed, from her memory; from the balcony of the second floor there was a rack of clothes being hung out to dry. Ivy climbed up the brick walls, which had been painted white sometime in the distant past and had been steadily peeling and cracking off since, and had been stained by the dust into a dull grey. A series of small colorful tubs and buckets lay haphazardly around a faucet that emerged from the ground.</p><p>Shu Le'ai moved the stick shift down to the mode that was printed in red, which she assumed read 'park', and turned off the engine. "<em>We're here.</em>"</p><p>Before Jenny had even stepped off the car, the light at the front of the shack turned on and there was the sound of voices. The front door burst open and an elderly woman with a cane hobbled out, followed by a little girl carried in the arms of a middle-aged woman. "<em>Jin Jin!</em>"</p><p>"<em>Laolao</em>!" she called out, rushing out of the car. She wrapped her arms around her grandmother and felt arms tighten around her the same. Somehow, seeing her in person was vastly different from what she looked like in video calls; <em>L</em><em>aolao</em> looked older here, and wizened, and the greying of her hair and the deep-set wrinkles were all the more apparent now that they were no longer being obscured by the Wechat video filters.</p><p>"<em>Look at you</em>," <em>Laolao</em> said, pulling away and reaching out a hand to pinch Jenny's cheek. "<em>You're so skinny. You must be hungry — come, Laolao made some soup for you. The Jinyang te shu</em>."</p><p>"<em>En</em>," Jenny said. She looked back at the car. "<em>My, </em>uh<em>, xin</em>..." She couldn't quite remember how to say luggage. <em>Xin xiang? Xiang xin? Xin zi?</em></p><p><em>Laolao</em> waved her hand. "<em>Let Le'ai take it</em>," she said, pulling Jenny bodily into the house. "<em>Come, you must meet the rest of the family</em>..."</p><p>The young girl, it turned out, was the daughter of Shu Le'ai's older brother Shu Lehao, who was currently out doing research for his work and who would return in a couple of days. His daughter's name was Shu Ming, affectionately dubbed Mingming, and the middle-aged woman who had come out with her was her mother Hong Jingtao. Most of the family had long left the hometown to resettle in the much larger Xichang or even far away to Chengdu, or, in Jenny and her mother's case, other countries, leaving only the older generation behind in Hongfeng, but the Shu brothers and their families faithfully returned to their roots every summer.</p><p><em>Laolao</em>'s younger sister, her <em>Yi-laolao</em>, and her husband, Jenny's <em>Yi-gonggong,</em> shuffled into the periphery as Jenny was herded into the kitchen. Introductions were made, memories were recalled, and Jenny nodded awkwardly as she tried to convert the thick, accented Mandarin into the words of her limited vocabulary.</p><p>"<em>You were this small</em><em> when you left, Jin Jin</em>," <em>Yi-laolao</em> said, gesturing to the wall, where a framed portrait of a six-year-old her hung from the wall along with other childhood photos of various other cousins. "<em>But now, so big!</em>"</p><p>"<em>A mei nü now, isn't she,</em>" <em>Laolao</em> chuckled, rubbing her back affectionately and sliding a bowl of what looked to be stir-fried chilis and potatoes. "<em>It's good that you're back. </em><em>We've all missed you very much</em>."</p><p>Jenny sat at the table, urged on to eat by her grandmother, and was suddenly struck by the wave of nostalgia and longing that washed over her as she looked around the small shack.</p><p>It had been twenty-one years since she had last come back. <em>Laolao</em> was no longer a sprightly sixty-something year old but now well into her mid-eighties, and now there was a new young girl living in the house, one of a new generation</p><p>"<em>I'm back</em>," Jenny said, looking around and feeling small pinpricks of wetness begin to form in the corners of her eyes.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><em><strong>Me: </strong></em>I'm here!</p><p><em><strong>Me:</strong> </em>IMG_4234.JPG</p><p><strong><em>Jackson: </em></strong>tell laolao hi</p><p><em><strong>Mom: </strong></em>Take care yourself!</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong><em>Nathan</em> <em>(work)</em></strong><em>: </em>Is there no Wifi in China haha</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>